Fly with me Wendy
by Chii-123
Summary: Wendy is to grow up. Neverland is to be held as a dream, nothing more. Or is it? As Wendy soon discovers, magic can happen- without neverland.
1. A farewell kiss

Picture this if you can. A cozy English room and in the nook of the far corner, a blazing fireplace that proudly displayed books of etiquette and proper English ways lit the room. To its right a sturdy oak desk that held quill, ink and parchment, all tools for civilized human beings. Then there is a strong walnut door that sported a bronze knocker that opened wide to view the room.  
  
Across the room on the other side, where the ceiling sloped, was a primly made bed. Corners tucked in with sheets and pillows pressed. At the foot of the bed lay an old chest. It's metal bracing's were rusted from its original golden gleam, to rusty bronze. The wooden casing was worn as if it had tested the weather from the sea, and on the lock, an elegant 'H' was chiseled into its metal plate.  
  
All of this is pleasing to the eye, but the most delicious part of the room to view was the window and its tiny balcony. The colorful glass sent rainbows to shame when the sun brought it's rays through their surfaces, while the balcony's Greek structure brought the stain glass to its measure. Yes, this was a room that befitted a grown up, for this was Wendy Darling's room.  
  
Wrapped in a only her nights gown and a blanket, Wendy sat on the windows edge. Blue eyes were cast down. The night air was chill but was wonderful to breathe in. The comforting warmth of the sheet helped to ease another longing. The moons soft light showed pale, smooth skin and lips that invited any man to claim a kiss. But there was no kiss there that anyone could claim. For it was already given. Lifting her gaze, Wendy studied the object in her hands.  
  
With a soft smile, she brought the acorn to tilt this way and that. The moonlight allowed her to see the small hole in the acorns shell. Delicate fingers brought it to her lips, a farewell kiss. It had been 5 years since her adventure to Neverland. She had waited. Waited for a special person to come back to her and now she was growing up. A single tear rolled down her smooth cheek as standing, she closed her window and locked it. Tomorrow, her father was going to escort her to her first ball. It was to be her debut. Raising a hand to the window glass, she laid her palm against the cool surface.  
  
"Good bye, Peter."

Chii note: Short, I know! I'm sorry, but I promise I will write more come the next chapter! Thanks for reading!


	2. Adventure begins

Chii note: Hey! Since I'm getting used to this, I know my chapters will lengthen and I promise that as the store goes it'll get more interesting :)  
  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own Peter Pan, book, movie or cartoon. So, I own no characters as well! _Dreamy Sigh_ I sure wish Peter was mine though. Ack! Baka! Back to the story! Right! Here's Chapter two:

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Adventure Begins   
  
"Wendy! Come child, your father is waiting!"  
  
"Coming mother!"  
  
Turning away from the stairs, Mrs. Darling entered the living room, stifling a giggle at her husbands frazzled pacing. He was so nervous that he had accidentally clipped his pocket watch chain to his sleeve and his tie was practically vertical! With a fond smile, Mrs. Darling approached her muttering husband.  
  
"Dear, you are utterly way to up tight!" Reaching out, she unclipped his pocket watch from his sleeve and tried to clip it to it's rightful place on his vest, but he spun around and continued to mutter small talk under his breath. "Now really George, there is nothing to be so nervous about!"  
  
"What's that?" His thoughts interrupted, he turned towards his wife. His face a comic picture of confusion.  
  
"Darling, are you that worried about Wendy's debut?"  
  
"Worried? Who said I was worried?"  
  
At Mary's raised eyebrow, Mr. Darling relented.  
  
"All right. Yes, I'm worried. I don't want anything to go wrong like it did last time with the bank manager! Wendy is still my little girl and..."  
  
"And she will always be your little Wendy. But it is time for her to grow up, George. We talked about this."  
  
Mary's calm voice brought Mr. Darlings worries to simmer. That was one thing he loved about her. She had a never-ending love, trust and faith with the ones she loved.  
  
"Yes, your right. Everything will go smoothly and our Wendy will shine." He smiled warmly at his wife. "Just like her mother."  
  
Beaming with approval, Mary moved in and set his bow to rights and clipped his watch chain to his vest. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she hugged him. "Don't you dare think for a moment I believe you," she grinned as he laughed.  
  
"I'm ready Papa!"  
  
George and Mary went to the bottom of the staircase, holding hands in silent excitement. Up the stairs stood a radiant beauty. Dazzling blue eyes matched the sparkling blue ball gown that clung to her bosom and sloped inward to reveal a lithe waist. The fabric shimmered as it flared from her waist and brushed the floor. White elbow length gloves outlined her delicate hands. The silver ribbons that created little designs in her dress were also strung about in her hair. To which was fluffed and brought back, away from her face. Her smile was full as she waited for a comment.  
  
"Well? What do you think?" She spun around, lifting her arms as if she were a fairy princess.  
  
Mary beamed at her daughter. She looked wonderful in the dress she had bought her. "You look lovely dear," her mother said, her pride lighting her eyes even more when Wendy curtsied prettily. "I have never seen you so beautiful! Don't you agree George? George?"  
  
Mr. Darling, however, was speechless. That couldn't be his daughter that not but a week ago was running around the house with a sword, being chased by a team of rampaging boys! This couldn't be the same little girl that had look up at his face, with dirt on her face and a black eye, and say; 'The boy was asking for it! It was his fault he called me a lady!' Lost in his memories, he kept opening and closing his mouth, unable to voice his own opinion about his daughter's appearance.  
  
"Wendy, your father thinks you look marvelous!" Mary hastily assured her daughter as she nudged her husband in the ribs. Who promptly closed his mouth firmly and beamed.  
  
"I know mother." Wendy smiled.  
  
"Wendy!"  
  
There was a loud slam and many pounding feet as each one of Wendy's brothers ran down the hallway to her. Each face was clean and nightgowns were donned, thanks to an undoubtedly very tired Nana. Wendy's brothers crowded around her.  
  
"Wow, Wendy! You look Beautiful!"  
"Thank you, John." "You look like a flower!"  
"Oh Michel, thank you." "Have fun at the ball Wendy!" "Can we come too, Wendy? Please?"  
"No, I'm afraid not." "Well, then can you tell us a story before you go?" "Yeah! Tell us a story Wendy!"  
"I can't!" "Hows about a story about ol' Pan an' Hook?" That was greeted with a cheer.  
  
"Settle down you lot! I can't tell you a story tonight. I have to go, but I promise to tell you two stories tomorrow night!" Wendy chuckled at their sullen faces. She loved each and every one of those faces. They constantly cheered her up when she was down and laughed and played with her, and interacted with her stories. One way that she repaid them back for all that they had given her was to tell them stories, every night she could. For a while, when she had still held onto her dreams of Peter, it hurt her to tell his stories. But in letting go, she was able to retell them. "I have to go now. Get a good sleep, all of you!"  
  
Ignoring their protesting complaints and mumbled good nights, she swept down the stairs where her father was waiting with the door open. Her mother kissed her brow and wished her good luck. With a whispered, 'take care of your father,' she went up the stairs and herded the gaggle of boy's back to the nursery. To which was greeted with many: 'If Wendy gets to stay up, why can't we?'  
  
Laughing, Wendy turned back to her father as he held out her over coat to her.  
  
"You look wonderful, truly." Mr. Darling said somberly as he helped her into the sleeves.  
  
"Thank you, Papa."  
  
A slow grin spread across George's face as he presented his arm to his daughter. The cab waited at the base of the steps, as the driver stood with the door open. The spotted stallion clicked his hoofs impatiently on the cobblestones.  
  
"Shall we?"  
  
Wendy looked up into her father's proud gaze. Watching as a flash of uncertainty caught her attention. Taking his arm, she motioned regally with a wave of her hand to escort her. Pleased in the chuckle she earned. "Yes, I do love a new adventure!"

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Chii note: _Sitting on a tree branch, looking down at her readers_.Thanks for reading, please Read and Review for me. Tell me what you think! _Laughing she swings down to the ground. Slumping against the roots and leaning against the tree, she writes the next chapter._


	3. New Faces

Let me blow off the dust on this old story and add something more...something better to what it once was.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in the main stories of Peter Pan. I do however own the ones I make up. :P

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Chapter 3-

**New Faces**

As the carriage turned off of the main road and onto a wide dirt pathway Wendy noted the aged old stone pillar supporting the gleaming gothic black gate. The surname plate, as black as the gate it was placed upon, bore the name of "Timberland Cottage" in gleaming silver letters. The ride had been longer than she had expected and the knots in her stomach had only tightened. Wendy looked down at her reticule and her finger which had wrapped itself around the thin wrist strap.

"I didn't know that the Viscount of Hawthorn would prefer to live so far out of the city. You would think with all of his investments in exportation he would keep closer to the city."

Shifting his tie for the hundredth time, George Darling glanced out at the lining of trees that passed by as they continued through the long drive. "I have it on good authority that the Viscount owns at least half if not more of the Barnes and Delany branch. They say that before the Viscount joined in and contributed funds the company was actually going bankrupt. The old man has an account at the bank you know." He leaned in with a conspirator's smile. "His account is larger than that of the Wentworth's. And that- my dear- is something."

Wendy nodded in acknowledgement. The Wentworth family was the richest and bluest family within London and they were never shy to make it known whenever there was an event or party. "Are they attending Lord O'Neil's ball as well?"

Mr. Darling looked at his daughter over his spectacles. "Wendy, my dear girl, I am nervous enough for both of us. You are radiant and I am positive that tonight will go very well indeed. No matter if the Wentworth daughters are present." He patted her hand as the carriage emerged from the row of trees and into a grand front yard of what was once a small summer cottage turned into an impressively grandeur estate.

Lounging in his favorite chair, The Viscount of Hawthorn glared at each approaching carriage that came up to his home, his sanctuary. He had told his mother quite explicitly that there was to be no ball held at Timberland Cottage and that if she even dared to think of it he would be forced to cast her out. But of course, she had managed to invite the whole of London to his home while he was preoccupied with the shipping catastrophe that had almost cost him and his understandably unhappy partners a years worth of income. It was lucky that he had caught onto the smuggling that was being done and was able to remedy the situation. Turning his gaze from the window and its darkening skies, the Viscount swirled the Amber liquor in his goblet one last time before downing it with a swift gulp. The comforting burn made a grim smile form on his lips as his servant entered into the office.

"I say sir, you shouldn't be late to your own ball you know." The manservant bustled into the room, stoking the fire on his way to his master's discarded vest and jacked. "You're mother is already calling for you."

"Exactly who do you serve Smithers?" Obligingly, the Viscount discarded his goblet and stood as the man held out his garments,

"Why you of course, sir. It is just that your mother is just a bit more demanding than you are." Vest and jacket placed, Smithers attacked what little lint and dust had accumulated since the morning.

"Damn her demands and damn the party. The only reason I am even allowing this ridiculous event is because it'll finally shut the old hag up."

Smithers, wisely, kept his mouth shut as he moved to refill the glass once more with two fingers of scotch.

"Has Elaine arrived yet?"

"Mrs. Wentworth and her daughters arrived a half hour ago." Smithers passed the liquor to the Viscount.

"I thought I told you to notify me immediately when-"

"Your mother again I am afraid. When I noted their arrival and turned to alert you she decided that I was needed more at her side for the time being. Please don't glare at me like that sir- you know how she is."

The Viscount snorted before tipping the liquor back once more. "For a fellow Irishman you have no spine at all."

"Yes sir,"

Smiling in mock sympathy, The Viscount of Hawthorn, Lord O'Neil, gave his servant his empty goblet and left his office. As he stalked through his home he prepared himself to spend another boring party only thinking about one thing. How long it would take for him to get Elaine away from the ball and into his bed.

Wendy had made it through the first introduction into her debut without any problems. It was a good thing that she took after her mother for the most part. Mingling was fun for her, so unlike her father. Having her father with her was really no help at all as he kept with the other father's circle close to the port table. It was a pity that her mother was five months along already. Had the doctor not told her to take it easier for the remaining months she would have come with her instead. It was lucky for Wendy that there was at least one family friend that she was able to rely upon. Elizabeth Fellner, daughter of the widowed Lady Fellner, was also enjoying her first debut.

"Wendy! Can you believe it? I've three names on my dance card already!" Excitement made Elizabeth positively glow. Her strawberry blond hair when perfectly with her amber and gold gown. The daringly low bodice, which was becoming more the fashion, showcased the girls…qualities. Being jealous was something that Wendy figured she would always be of her friend. Through out her growth spurts her mother had constantly told her that she was filling out and becoming more like a woman. Except when she looked in the mirror all she saw was a lanky youth with small breasts and practically no waist to speak of. Wendy conspicuously checked herself in a side mirror near the dance floor and sighed at her reflection. She had come a long way from being the youth that had desired nothing more to become a pirate. Now, standing with her dark auburn hair modestly tucked up and behind and a floor length blue satin gown, she replaced the smile on her face. She was here to have fun and enjoy the night. Despite the fact that her dance card was still currently empty.

"Wendy- did you hear me?"

"I'm sorry what?"

"Look! The Viscount of Hawthorn has arrived!" Her friend did a little jiggle that should've look childish but only managed to catch the gaze of a man across the way.

"Where is he?" Wendy, almost a head taller than Elizabeth scanned the crowd.

"Over by the stair case. He's with Elaine Wentworth. There, right there." Elizabeth danced as she tried to keep the man in view.

"You can't mean the man in the completely black suit. He's much too young."

"Whatever made you think that he was old? I bet there's not even a single grey hair on that man's head."

"Well father said-"

"Pish posh- your father says a lot of things that sometimes make no sense at all! Come on, Wendy, I simply must try to get a dance with him." And with an muffled giggle Elizabeth grabbed Wendy's hand and hauled her toward the host of the ball.

When they got within ten paces of the crowd that surrounded the host and his partner, Elizabeth finally released Wendy as she jostled as subtly as she could at the other interested people. Wendy could only stare in polite confusion as to why everyone was so keen to be acquainted with the man. He look positively bored with what was going on around him. The only thing that she could tell he was interested in was the glass of liquor in his hand and the women that clung to his arm. The last thing that she wanted to do was line up for a chance meeting with a man that didn't give a damn. She wanted to dance and knew that to do that she would have to find someone at least somewhat interested in dancing with her.

"I see your friend has forgotten you."

Startled, Wendy turned around and had to tilt her head back to look up into the startlingly blue eyes of a man. She was taken aback for just a moment by the rakish goatee and chiseled features. Remembering herself, she curtsied to the gentlemen, noting his traditional suit and cufflinks while doing so. "Not at all. I am simply being a look out should there be anyone trying to take the space that I stood upon, my Lord."

With a smirk, the man extended his hand in greeting. "And what would happen should someone try to take said space?"

Wendy placed her hand in his and could not repress a quiver down her spine as he kissed the back of her hand gently. "I fear I would have to defend my honor and take penance for their transgression."

"Oh?" Keeping her hand in his, his thumb brushed the back of her hand in subtle circles.

Feeling self conscious, Wendy tugged her hand out of his and clutched her reticule. "Yes."

"Well," Standing fully upright and straightening his shoulders, the man gestured to the crowd around the Viscount. "Then I shall have to aid you. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement?"

"My Lord?"

Somehow her hand was once more between the two of his. "My penance will be a dance. For I believe…" He took a step forward and grinned widely when Wendy retreated from him. " that I just took your ground."

A laugh bubbled up before she could regain herself. This man was handy with his actions. "Well, as a trained look out I will make sure the sentence is carried out. You must sign your name on the line now so you're held accountable."

The man released her hand to take the card. After signing it and returning it, he bent towards Wendy and whispered in her ear. "I enjoyed meeting you Miss Darling. Till later then." And with that, the man turned on his heel and made his way easily through the crowd. His movements that of a cat, sleek and purposeful.

"Who was that?" Elizabeth came up to Wendy, with a frown as she followed her friends gaze to the departing figure.

"He's-I'm not sure…"

"He wrote his name down on your card didn't he?"

Remembering that he had done just that, Wendy clutched at her dance card and read the single name upon it. "It says "Peter"…"

"Peter? Is that it?"

"Yes- see? There's no last name or anything." They flipped the card just in case, but the single name remained the only writing. "How odd. Is this normal?"

"I don't think so. All of the gentlemen on my card signed their full names." Elizabeth held out her already full card for her friend to see.

"Well…I suppose he just…forgot then."

"What a ridiculous thing to do."

Wendy shrugged as she turned to see whether the crowd had disbanded yet. Nope. "Did you get a dance with the Viscount?"

Elizabeth stopped beaming at her dance card and pouted prettily. "He never even spared a moment for me. Wouldn't even turn to look at me when I called his name right next to him."

"Not a very good host then if he can not be kind enough to greet his guests." Puzzled, Wendy looked for the handsome pair but could see no sight of the two. "Well, apparently they're off mingling elsewhere. Shall we go and get a few more names on my dance card? It's not like you don't have the enough to spare."

As Wendy gained more names on her card and met more people she couldn't help but have a single name repeat in the back of her mind. "Peter" the card still showed. Only Peter. She knew that she was being silly to think of her past, but the name had always struck a chord with her after…after him. Why hadn't the man written his last name? Why hadn't he at least introduced himself? After all, he had called her by her surname so it would've only been fair to have had him give her his. Determined to gain favor at the ball and to rid herself of the frustrating thoughts, Wendy engaged herself further in introductions and small talk. She was, however, unable to keep a startlingly blue pair of eyes out of her mind throughout the beginning of the ball.

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- 3 Chii


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